


A Stranger's New Year's Resolution

by TizzyMcWizzy



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrinette | Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - No Powers, F/M, Fluff, New Year's Eve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:34:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22723258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TizzyMcWizzy/pseuds/TizzyMcWizzy
Summary: Marinette sat alone at a table for two, sketchbook open and staring out the window at the fireworks that splashed color over snow-covered rooftops. She wasn't waiting for anyone and no one was waiting for her really. She just sat quietly among the incessant chatter of the tipsy people around her. It was around 10 at night so there was still 2 hours until New Years officially began, but that never seemed to stop people from getting far too drunk far too early.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 12
Kudos: 69





	1. Stangers

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first posted work on here! Aah, it's kinda scary, I hope you like it!  
> (◍•ᴗ•◍)
> 
> This takes place in an AU were there are no powers, and Adrien never goes to public school. So they don't know each other. Oh, and aged up characters.  
> There is some alcohol use and talk of alcohol use on this, hope that's okay.

Marinette sat alone at a table for two, sketchbook open and staring out the window at the fireworks that splashed color over snow-covered rooftops. She wasn't waiting for anyone and no one was waiting for her really. She just sat quietly among the incessant chatter of the tipsy people around her. It was around 10 at night so there was still 2 hours until New Years officially began, but that never seemed to stop people from getting far too drunk far too early.

She flipped the pencil around in her hand and gazed back at her sketchbook. She was doodling some cocktail dresses until she found a design she wanted to stick with and carry onto the next page. 

People-watching is amazing inspiration, she'd found. Especially on nights of celebration when people wore their best and drank lazily, not caring about how they looked. 

Marinette scanned her eyes over the crowd once more and admired a red dress with tassels on the ends. Tassels, hmm. She hadn't thought about that. She made a quick doodle on her page and put the pencil up to her lips, scrunching her nose. 

"Would you like another drink, mademoiselle?" A waiter asked, peering down at her.

Marinette startled and flipped her pencil. "Oh, no thank you, I'm just fine." She waved them off with a smile. 

The waiter nodded and smiled as they walked away. Marinette had never been really fond of drinking. Sure alcohol could taste good but hangovers were never fun. Especially alone. She thought, sadly.

She swiped her finger around the edge of her half empty glass, watching the reflection of the fireworks flash and sparkle. She watched it for a second before gasping. That's a perfect idea! She swiped up her pencil and made a small sketch. It was perfect. She flipped her page and sketched the dress out with quick lines. 

A hand appeared in her periferal. Hesitantly tapping the table in front of her. "Excuse me," he said. His voice was shy, but just loud enough to be heard over the music. Marinette glanced at the hand before looking up. A man stood at the edge of the small table, smiling warmly. "I'm sorry, is anyone sitting here?" He asked. "There's no other seats open." He turned around to gesture at the crowd of people that had slowly grown since the evening's beginning.

"Oh, uh," she found it hard not to gawk at him. His hair was golden blond, combed back near perfectly and his eyes were stark green, shining brightly with reflections of fireworks dancing in their centers. "Sure, there's no one sitting there." She pulled her sketchbook closer to her and gathered her pencils to her side of the table.

"Thanks a ton," he smiled again. He is really pretty, wow. She nodded and turned back to her sketchbook. He sat down, facing the rest of the bar, away from her. They sat in silence for a bit as he scrolled through his phone and she sketched. Marinette didn't find it exactly easy to ignore him, but he didn't seem to be uncomfortable with her presence. As she finished the sketch she found herself wondering what he was doing here alone. Well, she was alone too, but he was far too good-looking to be alone, wasn't he? She pondered this and glanced up at him. Then jumped internally as she found him watching her. His eyes were trained on the paper and a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He noticed her hand pause and he glanced up at her. "Oh, sorry." He laughed awkwardly.

"It's fine," she managed to squeak out in a voice that was close to normal. "Your fine," she waved her hand.

He looked back down at the sketch. "That's really good, you've got a lot of talent." He gestured at the page.

"Oh, thank you." She gave him a small smile. When most people saw her art they said the same few things like a broken record, she never received just a kind complement. They sat in a comfortable silence, both occupied with their tasks; his being scrolling through his phone and watching the crowd. Her thoughts were drawn back to the fact that he was alone. Was he waiting for someone?

"Adrien! Salut, It's so grand to see you, would you care for anything?" The waiter appeared at the table again. He smiled warmly and shook Adrien's hand.

Adrien smiled back just as brightly. "It's good to see you too, Jackson. You can just get me my usual." He leaned back in his chair and placed his elbow on the table.

"Would you like anything else, mademoiselle?” Jackson turned to her, pen at the ready.

"No thank you, I’m fine," she chuckled softly.

"Tsk tsk," the waiter shook his head and scribbled something down. "You shouldn't have left her waiting for so long, Adrien. She's only ordered one drink all night, you've soured the poor girl’s appetite."

The both of them froze. "Uh, um, no, no i-it's not-" she glanced frantically between them. "We're not-" she stumbled over her words. Jackson raised an eyebrow.

"It's not like that, Jack." Adrien laughed good-naturedly and shook his head. "There were just no other seats open," he gestured to the packed bar.

"Oh, well, you could've just asked, Adrien. I'm sure we could get you a place to sit," he turned to walk back to the front bar.

"No, no it's fine Jack." Adrien shot his hands up. "Really you don't have to. I was just looking for a place to rest my feet." 

"Well, if you insist." He nodded. "Sorry for insinuating that, mademoiselle." He glanced at Marinette, who looked down at her sketchbook, ears red with embarrassment.

"It's alright." She smiled weakly. He left for the bar. She fidgeted with her pencil and tried to focus on her drawing.

"Sorry about that," Adrien laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Jack can get pretty carried away."

"It's alright," she repeated. He gazed out at the rest of the bar. His eyes were really pretty. "Do you know him?" She asked and took a sip of her half-empty drink.

"Huh?" He turned back to her. "Oh, yeah. I know most of the waiters here. This place is one of my favorites." He laughed softly. "You come here often?" 

She nearly choked. Thank God she'd swallowed her sip. Had he meant to make that sound like a pick up line? Or had he just asked that normally without any connotations? "No, this is my first time here." She tapped the side of her glass lightly.

"Really?" He smiled again. Man, he really was pretty. "Want some drink recommendations?" He turned in his seat so he faced her head on and leaned forward.

"Sure," she tried to calm her pulse. Get a hold of yourself, girl! Marinette imagined Alya slapping her shoulder and pushing her forward. He's just a hot guy. She smirked and raised a brow. A strange confidence filled her. "Hit me,"

"Well, you've got to try the Devilled Tears To Go with a shot of lime, that's my favorite." He waved his hand around as he spoke, strangely enthusiastic. "But the Avant-garde Fruit Punch is another good choice. It depends on how much kick you'd want, though."

She raised her eyebrows. "And how much 'kick' is that?" Is that a normal response? Is this how people talk?

He shrugged. "Depends." He looked up for a moment and turned back to her with a smirk on his face. "How we kicken' today, little lady?"

She scoffed and chuckled. Her face started to heat up again. "Was that a pun?" She glanced up at him through her lashes. 

"Maybe," he leaned back in his chair, smirk still light on his lips.

She shook her head and rolled her eyes. "I'd say I'm kicken' for something light." She picked up her pencil and twirled it in her hands again.

"Then you'd probably want to go with the punch." He nodded.

"Okay, I'll roll with that." she glanced over to Jackson who was coming back with a drink. Adrien's eyes lit up, he caught her subtle pun.

"A Devilled Tears for you," he placed the purple drink in front of Adrien lavishly. But Adrien didn't even glance at it, he fixed his eyes on her, a wild gleam sparkling along with the fireworks. "Can I help you with anything else?" 

"I'll get an Avant-garde Fruit Punch, please." She rested her chin on her wrists and smiled up at Jackson. He raised an eyebrow. 

"Coming right up, mademoiselle." He nodded and scribbled it down. As he walked back to the bar he gave Adrien a gentle pat on the back.

"That was a good one." He chuckled. “Roll with the punches,” he whispered. He pulled his gaze away from her and sat back up in his chair.

"Thank you," she smiled and picked up her pencil again. He’s a fan of puns? He nodded and picked up his drink.

They sat in comfortable silence once again, sneaking glances at each other as she sketched. The dress was coming along nicely. She peeked up at him and watched him watch her in stolen glances. Why was he so intrigued? Finally she placed her pencil down and flipped the sketchbook to face him. "What do you think?"

He put his drink down and turned his full attention to the page. "Wow, it's amazing," his eyes traced the page for a while. "Are you a designer?" He looked up at her.

"Not independently. I work as an apprentice." She fidgeted with a pen. "But I hope to be some day." She took a quick glance up at him before turning to the window. He was still looking at her.

"I feel like you could definitely become a professional. I've seen plenty of designers, but this is really something special." He spoke softly. She turned back to him, there was something soft in his eyes.

"Thank you." She whispered. He nodded and smiled gently. He was so pretty. Oh man. And his smile was so kind.

"How long have you been designing?" 

That was a difficult question. She posted and thought for a moment. "Well, I sort of drew all the time, but I started taking it more seriously when I was in sixth grade I think," she brushed a strand of hair out of her face.

"Did you always want to be a designer?" He tapped his finger on the table between them.

"Yeah," she laughed through a sigh, "I was one of those weird kids that always knew what I wanted to be when I grew up. No doubt in my mind I guess." Marinette scratched a spot on the table. "What about you? What do you do for a living?”

“I, I work as a model, for my father’s company.” He massaged the back of his neck. Wait, really? Yeah sure he was good looking but being a model… He grinned at her lopsidedly. Oh yeah, she could definitely see it.

"You're a model?" She twisted her brows.

He looked at her and laughed. "What, you don't think I have the dashing good looks?" He joked. Then he squinted at her, still smiling. "You seriously don't recognize me?" His voice was softer.

"Am I supposed too?" She scoffed.

"Do you know my last name?" It was his turn to quirk his brow. Playfulness laced his voice.

"No, you haven't told me?" She clearly wasn't getting it.

He chuckled softly and spun the drink in his hand. "I guess it's only fair since I know your last name." He stuck out his hand again. She took it instinctively, still confused. "My name's Adrien Agreste, nice to meet you." 

She blinked. "Wait," she froze. "Adrien... Agreste?" She sputtered. "Like, son of the ruler of the fashion empire and my favorite designer, Adrien Agreste?" Her eyes were as wide as the moon.

He burst out laughing, still holding her limp hand over the table. She joined him after a moment. They laughed like a pair of idiots until Jackson came with her drink. He squinted at both of them with a small smile and placed it down without a word, before scurrying back to the bar. 

"Yeah," he said a little out of breath. "That's the one." 

"Wow," she rested her head on her hand. "I'm surprised I didn't recognize you." She picked up her second drink. It was a pretty shade of orange pink. "I'd like to think I'm bright enough to recognize a face I see on billboards every day."

He chuckled. "Is my father really your favorite designer?" He leaned forward with his elbows braced in the table.

"Duh, I mean have you seen his winter line? Of course you have, you wore half of it," she took a sip of the punch. "Wow, that's good." She put the drink down.

"I know, right," he said off-hand.

"Like, his control of color and shape is stunning, do you remember that one blue-teal sweater? It had this little white strip near the bottom. Anyway, oh my GOD the way it just rested on the model was amazing!" She leaned in with her eyes lighting up. "It was this perfect blend between baggy and form fitting, I just," she made a chef kiss and he chuckled. "And I mean off the bat the model had a great body," she raised her brows.

"Of course," he nodded with a soft gleam in his eye.

"But it just enhanced it in the most perfect way, and I mean," she gazed out the window and then back to him. "It's just a sweater, but I can't help fangirl over it." She giggled. Adrien smirked at her. His cheeks were a little pink. Probably from the alcohol. "What, is it weird to hear me gushing about your dad?" She put her head in her hands. "Oh god that must've sounded super weird, sorry." Her face felt hot.

"No, no, your fine," he laughed. "It's just, do you remember who wore that sweater?" He peered at her through her fingers.

She sucked in a breath. Oh god. Oh god. OH GOD. Her face must've been hilarious because he burst out laughing again. She scowled and slammed her hands on the table. That made him laugh harder. "Stop laughing at me!" She growled, trying to stop her own smile from forming.

He covered his mouth and doubled over. Failing miserably to stifle his laughter. "Sorry, sorry," he breathed between giggles. She couldn't help smiling at him. He had a cute laugh. Dammit.

"It's just flattering," he looked down at his drink and sighed. His cheeks were definitely pink. Hers heated up in turn. "So," he played with a strand of his hair. "How is the drink?" He nodded to the glass in front of her.

“Oh,” she picked it up and took another sip. “It’s good, it’s good.” She nodded and closed her eyes focusing on the taste. “It’s definitely got ‘kick,'" she pursed her lips, then smiled as he laughed.

"Wanna try mine?" He picked up his drink and handed it to her. Is he serious? Oh goodness her face felt hot.

"You sure?" She tried her hardest to smile naturally.

"Yeah, I wanna hear your opinion of the both of them." He tapped the glass.

She picked up the drink and nearly brushed his fingertips. Chill OUT MARINETTE. She took a sip. And then coughed. "Oh, wow," she cringed. "That's definitely got something." It was super strong, definitely a lot of lime as well.

He laughed, "The after taste is worth it though." 

She squinted and let the taste sit in her mouth. She hummed and wiggled her tounge around. As the lime and strength of alcohol died down a subtle taste of fruit floundered to the front. "Oh," her eyes widened. He stared back at her, full of anticipation, a light smile on his face. "Oh!" She smiled. "Passion fruit?" She smirked and picked up the glass and took another sip. He grinned.

"Yup, most people miss that though," he tapped his chin.

"Must be the baker in me," she chuckled and switched their drinks back around.

"Baker? I thought you were a designer?" He cocked his head at her.

"My parents run a bakery, I can bake but I'm not all that passionate about it." She ran her finger over her glass.

"Multiskilled I see," he raised his brow dramatically and took a sip of his drink. "What's your favorite dessert?"

"Hmmm, well I'd probably say some kind of macaroon. The strawberry ones are good, oh but those kiwi ones my mom made were great," she pondered.

"So, kiwi macaroons are your favorite?" 

"If I had to pick, yes." She nodded. "What's your favorite dessert?" 

"Guess," he smirked.

She pursed her lips. "What would a model have as a favorite dessert?" She tapped her chin. Marinette eyed him carefully. He wasn't giving her much. He was thin and fit, as models usually were, but he seemed to be a food enthusiast of sorts. Or a drink enthusiast. A drink enthusiast… oh! The passion fruit in his favorite drink? "Let's see, do you have a passion for passion fruit?"

Adrien's eyes lit up again as he chuckled. "Right on the nose, Marinette." He tapped his nose, to emphasize his point.

"How do you like your passion fruit though? Besides in your drinks." Guessing what kind of dessert it would be in was difficult.

"My go to is a fruit filled cake, with frosting on top." He cupped his hands to show her the size. "They're so good when they're crunchy and warm," he smiled and looked down at his hands.

"I've tried plenty of fruit filled cake, but never a passion fruit one." It was more of an acquired taste. 

"You should definitely try it at some point. The ones from Danielle's are pretty good." 

"Danielle's, huh. I'll ask my parents to make one." 

He furrowed his brows. "You've got something against Danielle's?" He chuckled.

"Maybe," she mumbled.

"What was that?" He leans in and cups a hand around his eat, grinning like the fool he is.

"I do!" She groans. "I know, I know, it's not nice to hold grudges, but she totally stole our cake design for the annual Cake-fest two years ago!" She throws her hands up in the air and he laughs at her frustration.

"How so?" He asks through giggles.

"Ugh, I don't want to get into it. I could rant for hours." She rolled her eyes thinking about it.

"I've got time," he smiled. 

She laughed. "So, the cake was supposed to be based off a specific type of tree, because the prompt that year was nature, right?" She began.

"Right," he nodded and folded his hands under his chin, paying close attention.


	2. Truths and Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien wasn't the most extroverted person. Yeah, he could get super lonely sometimes but being around strangers wasn't the most fun thing in the world. Especially those from his status. Old men and women talking only about money and gossip as they ripped each other to shreds when their backs were turned. The younger generation wasn't great either. Self-centered brats left and right that had no respect for anything but themselves. So, when seeing most of whom he was forced to spend time around, one could understand why he tended to avoid talking amongst his peers. 
> 
> Never going to public school didn’t help either. He’d met Nino, thank God, out of a stroke of luck, but having one normal friend in a sea of awful acquaintances can really damage a person's social skills. Most of his interactions with other people, outside his two friends, consisted of polite conversations, practiced smiles, forced laughter, and shameful agreement.
> 
> So, when the well-mannered Agreste was a bit tipsy and sat in front of this clever and attractive girl he nearly lost his mask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second chapter has arrived! I hope it's to your liking! :))
> 
> Thank you guys for all the nice comments and kudos! You've really helped to motivate me so thanks!

Adrien wasn't the most extroverted person. Yeah, he could get super lonely sometimes but being around strangers wasn't the most fun thing in the world. Especially those from his status. Old men and women talking only about money and gossip as they ripped each other to shreds when their backs were turned. The younger generation wasn't great either. Self-centered brats left and right that had no respect for anything but themselves. So, when seeing most of whom he was forced to spend time around, one could understand why he tended to avoid talking amongst his peers. 

Never going to public school didn’t help either. He’d met Nino, thank God, out of a stroke of luck, but having one normal friend in a sea of awful acquaintances can really damage a person's social skills. Most of his interactions with other people, outside his two friends, consisted of polite conversations, practiced smiles, forced laughter, and shameful agreement.

So, when the well-mannered Agreste was a bit tipsy and sat in front of this clever and attractive girl he nearly lost his mask.

"Okay, okay," Marinette held up three fingers and grinned, bouncing a little in her seat. "I never learned how to ride my bike until I was ten because I was absolutely terrified of falling, I have never eaten an olive in my life, and…" she waved her hands around drawing out her words as she thought. "Ooh! I once beat everyone in my class in a rock paper scissors tournament." She stared at him intently, suppressing a grin.

"Okay," he stroked his chin. "You definitely have eaten an olive before." He pointed at her and raised a brow. She gave him no reaction. "And, something tells me you definitely won a rock paper scissors tournament." He didn't dare look away or blink.

Her smirk just got wider. "What makes you so sure, Agreste?" She leaned on her elbow, sizing him up.

"You aced your AP psychology class, you definitely know how to beat a bunch of high schoolers in rock paper scissors." He leaned in over the table to match her.

"Final answer?" A sickening sweetness that made his heart flutter laced her sing-song voice. 

"Yup." Adrien folded his hands over the table and under his chin. She didn't move or say anything for a moment, letting his answers float between them. He'd be lying if he said it didn't make him nervous.

She broke the eye contact and sighed, leaning back fully in her chair with a thump. "Uugh, all correct." She groaned overdramatically. 

"Yes!" He fist-pumped and laughed at her defeat. Marinette pouted at him with a scowl. Her nose scrunched up in the cute way it did when she was frustrated.

"What gave me away?" She pressed her hands against the flat of the table.

"You live in a bakery, in Paris. You have to have eaten an olive. It's obvious." He shrugged. Marinette raised her brows and smiled.

They'd been talking for who knows how long, on subjects ranging from terrible movies, cooking, color theory, gardening, back to cooking, and then to video games. 

He didn't believe her when she claimed to be a master at Ultimate Mecha Strike three, which led into an intense game of two truths in a lie. In which he was currently beating her five rounds to three. And in the time that flew by, he learned many interesting things. Four of which stood out prominently. One, she had dropkicked someone by accident in the twelfth grade during a Halloween party. Two, she had been in a ballet class for three years until she broke her wrist; she was also apparently absolutely terrible at ballet. Three, she had a mild obsession with anything cat related for the majority of her childhood. And four, the more he learned about this girl the more he was going crazy.

"Hello, Earth to Adrien?" Marinette snapped a hand playfully in his face. "Anyone up there?" 

He shook his head to clear his thoughts. "Ah, sorry I spaced out." His cheeks felt a little hot.

"Went off to your own little planet, huh?" She chuckled. 

His eyes went wide. "I completely missed that!" He put his hands up into his hair as she buckled with laughter. 

"Maybe you make so many bad puns it's like second nature to you," she said between giggles. "How do you even come up with them?"

He smirked. "It's not like it's rocket science, little lady." Adrien shrugged again. His smile grew wider as she groaned.

"Shut up." She poked his arm and stuck out her tongue.

"How menacing! I'm terra-fied!" He mocked her with jazz hands, putting extra emphasis on his pun. "And don't you mean, shuttle up?" He grinned even wider as she reached over the table to smack his shoulder.

"Stop punning!" She barked between laughter. "It's your turn, don't prolong the wait before I wipe the floor with you." She crossed her arms, biting back a smile.

"Astro-service, little lady." Adrien bowed his head with a flourish. The fire in his chest was only stoked higher with her grumble. Well, maybe there was a fifth thing; teasing her was probably the most fun thing in the entire world. "Okay," he straightened and readjusted his seat. "I took a karate class but quit after I got a green belt." She nodded and squinted at him, trying to dissect his story. "I've never owned a pair of mismatched socks in my life, and..." He paused.

Adrien picked up a stray pencil on the table and scribbled a small flower on the little mess of a drawing they had started to form on a new page in her sketchbook. There was a crude drawing of a whale, his doing, and a cartoonishly short pirate, Marinette's, and several other weird things. 

"And in my entire life, I've pricked myself on a rose fourteen times." He glanced up at her, her nose still scrunched, deep in thought.

"That's an oddly specific number," she tapped her lips.

"Is it?" He tried his hardest to keep a poker face. But for all his professional model training he couldn't for the life of him prevent the smile tugging on his lips from forming. 

"The mismatched socks one is definitely true." Marinette glanced under the table and lifted his pants leg with her shoe. He almost snapped her pencil in half. His heart picked up the pace and his legs felt gooey. Is she serious? Well, she did dropkick someone. "White socks, with black pants? Who raised you?" She looked back up at him and smirked. His face was probably more red than any ripe tomato on the planet. He laughed awkwardly.

"My king of the fashion underworld father, apparently." He choked out, taking a nearly desperate sip out of his drink. She's gonna kill me.

"I barely know anything about karate, but you took fencing, right? Those aren't very similar, and you can get far more injured in karate than in fencing. So, taking into account your reputation and importance, I'd say that's the lie." She pointed a finger up in the air matter of factly.

"What about the roses?" He smiled, regaining his composure slightly, and placed the empty glass on the table.

"It's too specific of a number for you to have made it up." Marinette paused with her eyes closed. Then she peeked them open and squinted at him. "Unless you're faking me out." She leaned forward and poked him again. His skin prickled where she touched him.

"You calling me a trickster?" Adrien gasped. 

"I wouldn't put it against you, Agreste." She stuck her tongue out again. 

He put a hand to his forehead and leaned over the table. "Oh my, what a scandalous accusation!" He peeked between his hands and found her stifling a giggle. The fire was stoked higher. "The fine lady Marinette accusing me of being a trickster," he pulled himself back up to the table and shook his head furiously. "Maybe she just doesn't know me as well as she thinks she does." He leaned in towards her face, smirking wildly.

She didn't lean back. "Do you or do you not wear mismatched socks, Sir Agreste?" She narrowed her eyes.

"If I told you it wouldn't be much of a game, right?" 

She paused, staring back at him for a while. "You joke too much to not own a pair." She concluded and leaned back. The air against his face was suddenly cold as she moved away.

"A pair?" Adrien raised his eyebrows. Marinette scowled at him and crossed her arms.

"You own a pair of mismatched socks, you've pricked your hands fourteen times, and you've taken a karate class." She listed them off on her fingers.

"Oh, so now I'm unfragile enough to take a karate class?" He tilted his head and smirked at her. Her nose scrunched up again. He'd never get over that.

"Stop it!" She sat up. "That's my final answer, now is it right or wrong?" She pointed up at him.

He stared at the sharp finger pointing at his nose. Then he looked back to her and grinned wide. "Wrong!" He sang.

"Aauugh!" She threw her head back and put her hands in her hair. Adrien burst out laughing. "What did I get wrong?" She sat up again.

"I've never owned a pair of mismatched socks in my life," he gasped between laughter. His sides were starting to hurt.

"What!" She threw her hands up, bewildered. That sent him into another fit of laughter. "Your kidding! You have to be kidding!" She leaned forward in her chair and chuckled.

He shook his head, breathless. "I- I've never gotten the chance to buy a pair." He gasped for breath, trying to regain his composure.

"At least I know what to make for your birthday," she murmured. That caught him by surprise. She covered her mouth the instant it slipped out. Her cheeks turned an impossible pink. "I- I mean!" She paused. "If- if I- If we, I-" she tripped over her words and looked away. Her ears began turning the same color as her cheeks. "I'm sorry, I-"

"I'd like that." He met her eyes again. 

"Really?" She almost whispered.

"Definitely." He smiled at her gently. Absolutely.

She slowly smiled behind her hands and giggled. What would he do to hear that again?

“Good evening ladies and gentlemen!” They were snapped out of the moment by a voice over the loudspeaker. “Here is just a quick reminder that there are twenty minutes remaining until the new year officially begins, the firework show will begin in five minutes. Have a fantastic evening!” They both glanced back at the other.

“Did you want to go see the firework show? I know a really good spot to see it from," he whispered and glanced around before winking.

She stared at him, cheeks still pink, hands still cupped gently over her mouth and giggled. "Sure," she whispered back. He almost fist-pumped. "Let me just just get my stuff," she stood and began to gather up the pencils littering the table.

"Here," he stood and closed her sketchbook. He reached to hand it to her before admiring the cover. It was covered in fabric and a black cursive M decorated the corner along with embroidered flowers. "Did you sew this?" He handed it back to her.

"Yeah, I design most of my accessories myself." She shoved it onto a bag that had a matching design and color scheme.

"That's amazing," he glanced at her dress. "Did you design that too?" She looked down at it and pulled at the fabric.

"Yeah, do you like it?" She looked up at him nervously and swung her bag over her shoulder.

"I do." It was a short navy blue dress that fanned out at the waist. Glitter and gold sequins lined the bottom edges and faded as they went up. It was simple but beautiful.

"Thank you," she smiled shyly and glanced up at him from under her bangs. "I made this a few years ago, so it's not as good as my more recent stuff. But I still like it." She fiddled with the fabric near the bottom.

"Well, I think it looks dress great." He smirked and puffed out his chest. She chuckled and rolled her eyes.

"You two leaving for the night?" Jackson, who apparently appeared out of nowhere, asked.

Marinette jumped up in the air. 

"No, we're just going to see the fireworks." He squinted at Jackson, who was giving him a look. "Anyway, can I have the check?" He reached behind him to pull out his wallet. 

"Oh, hey," she batted his arm away. "Let me pay," she dug through her bag.

"Wha- I was the one who told you to try the drink. Let me pay for it." He pointed to his chest.

"It’s fine,” she pulled out her wallet and dug through it.

“No, let me. I sat at your table anyway,” he touched her arm. “Come on, my treat.” She frowned. "Please, Marinette?" He cupped his hands together and gave her a winning smile. 

"Fine," she stuck her nose up in the air and turned away. "But I'll pay next time." She dissolved slightly. "If there is a next time?" Marinette cast him a glance.

"Of course," he smiled at her and took the check as Jackson handed it to him. Next time? Oh god.

As he handed it back, Jackson pulled him in by the shoulder. "You take care of that girl, you hear me?" He whispered.

Adrien nodded firmly and blushed. Jackson gave him a kind smile and picked up the empty glasses. "Have a good night, you two." He winked at Marinette and walked off. Adrien caught her looking at him out of the corner of his eye. Her face was red as well.

"Okay," he turned to her and pulled his jacket off the back of the chair. "Follow me," he grinned.

"Lead the way," she bowed and waved her hand out, gesturing for him to go. 

He guided her through tables to the glass staircase near the far wall. Adrien offered her his arm, which she took, and helped her up the stairs. 

"Y'know, I've never understood these stairs. They're a hazard waiting to happen." He shook his head as they reached the second floor.

"I think they look pretty," she looked behind them and glared at the stairs. "But I can't imagine walking up them in heels." He shrugged. 

They walked to the double glass doors that lead out to the balcony; it was located in one of the far corners of the upper level. The balcony was pretty small and secluded, and it was freezing outside, so the fact that it was almost deserted wasn't much of a surprise. All the while, Adrien tried not to pay too much attention to the fact that she never let go of his arm.

There was a man standing next to the door that looked him up and down wordlessly. Adrien flashed a money-making smile and walked past him with confidence. Marinette looked up at Adrien and made a face. He shrugged. "Not sure why that guy was there, but it is New Year's Eve after all." He whispered. She nodded and and looked forward.

Not that he'd never been there before. When he said he'd been to this restaurant plenty of times he meant it. There weren't many happy memories he'd had on that balcony, but the view of a glowing Paris always seemed to pull him out of a bad mood. He opened the glass door and watched as she stepped through. She slowly let her arm fall from his and walked out onto the terrace. The cold December soon to be January wind bit through his clothes, but he could barely feel it. 

As Marinette looked out she gasped quietly. The city's lights reflected in her eyes and seemed to make her glow. She looked beautiful in the dim light. It took his breath away. He followed her out and closed the door behind him, not taking his eyes off her. 

"It's amazing," she breathed.

"I know." A smile tugged at his lips and his heart pounded in his chest.

Marinette walked towards the railing and watched the city below. 

A sudden crash and sparkle of light caught their attention. The fireworks. They sparked and shined in the air, flickering out as quickly as they came.

"Wow," she laughed and looked up to the sky. 

After a moment she turned and beckoned him closer. Adrien walked over and leaned over the railing. "Enjoying yourself?" He smiled. She nodded, her cheeks were turning pink. Probably from the cold. She was pulling her jacket tighter around her.

Another whiz through the air and a crash. 

He took his coat off and draped it over her shoulders. Marinette jumped a little from his touch. She turned to him and then stared at the jacket. It was unsurprisingly too big for her. Cute.

"Aren't you cold?" She asked. Her breath was warm on his face. 

He shook his head. "I'm fine." He leaned his head on his hand and watched her. She scowled, pushing out her bottom lip. Marinette shrugged off one of the shoulders of the jacket and reached up to wrap it around both of them.

"There," she smiled softly. "I don't want you to catch a cold." Marinette turned to watch the fireworks again. Good thing, too. She didn't see how red his face was.

They watched the fireworks in silence for a bit. Marinette giggled every once in a while when the fireworks crash was so thunderous it's vibrations could be felt in the railing. Their shoulders rested against each other, he wondered if she could hear his heartbeat. 

After a breath she pulled up her watch and gasped.

"What?" He turned to her.

"It's almost six minutes until New Year!" She bit her lip and smiled. Cute.

He idly kicked his leg back and felt something hit his foot. It skidded backwards, drawing her attention. "What's that?" Marinette picked the something up off the ground and dusted the snow off. She gasped. "They're sparklers!" She waved the somewhat wet box in his face.

"Wha- how did you manage that?" He laughed.

"Guess I'm just lucky," she giggled lightly and opened the box. She pulled out two and handed him one. Their fingers touched for the briefest of moments.

"I didn't ask you earlier," she looked up at him. "What's your New Year's resolution?" He blinked at her.

"Uhh, well." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I guess I haven't really thought about it." He played with the end sparkler, twisting it in his hands.

"We- well it doesn't have to be a resolution. Cause, maybe there isn't really anything you want to do better next year. You could just make a wish." She flipped the sparkler in her hand.

He laughed. "Well, I guess if I think about the past year," he turned back to the city and watched the fireworks. "I'd want to try and be happier. And live a little more. Like, to do things that are out of the ordinary, or try something new." He looked down at his hands. "I feel like I'm slowly getting more and more tired of my life. So, maybe I should change it. I guess. I don't know," he laughed dryly. "Sorry, I'm rambling."

"Don't apologize." Her voice was quiet and soft. "Here," she dug through her bag and pulled out a small box.

"What's that?" He asked.

"It's a flint kit," she chuckled, "a little weird, I know." She took out the metal pieces.

"I don't think it's weird." It wasn't the weirdest thing he'd ever seen. And even at that it was funny, and cute. Very cute.

Marinette looked up at him and blinked. Then she burst into soft laughter. "Thanks," she took his hand that held the sparkler and tilted it to the side. Her fingers were freezing, not that his were any better probably. She clicked the metal together and lit the sparkler. He gasped and held it up straight, the sudden light and sound of it startling him. She laughed and put the flint kit away, then took her sparkler and lit it on his. "Are you gonna make a wish?" She asked.

"Uuh, well," he held the sparkler up and watched it. “I…” He closed his eyes, it felt silly. “I wish that, I wish that next year I will be happier. That I'll do the things that I want to do, and that I'll grow as a person. And that next year will be a year that I can look back on with fond memories." He opened his eyes slowly to find her staring up at him. "Sorry, was that a bit much?" He laughed.

She shook her head and smiled.

"Well, what are you going to wish for?" He nudged her shoulder. 

Marinette tilted her head. "I'll wish for the same thing. For me to be happier, and for you as well," she elbowed Adrien and winked. "And for next year to be a year of good memories." He gaped at her. Marinette held up her sparkler, giggled and poked him. "Besides, if we both wish for the same thing," she touched the end of her sparkler to his, making the flame brighter, "it's twice as likely to come true, right?" He was speechless, and it was not very often that Adrien could be left speechless. He usually always had something or other to say, but here, at this moment, on this balcony nearly freezing his butt off, he was silent. He blinked at her.

A quiet countdown crept through the glass door behind them. Marinette and gasped and bounced on her feet. A smile danced across her face as she looked back eagerly from him to the door. She started counting down with the crowd. "Seven, six, five," he joined her.

"Four, three, two…" Marinette took in a deep breath and on the final count as the fireworks crashed and sparkled through the air, she blew the sparkler out with him; like a birthday candle. Hopefully, sending their wish off to wherever wishes go.

They both flinched at the loud and Earth rumbling fireworks, laughing the whole time until they died out. Cries and cheering could be heard from inside, as well as the bustling of the street below, but he barely paid any attention.

"Happy New Year, Adrien!" She laughed and hugged him. He tensed up for a moment before melting into the hug.

"Happy New Year, Marinette." He whispered into her hair and held her tight. If there's one thing that Adrien knew for certain it was that he was absolutely done for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess who's catching feelings???  
> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) sike its both of them
> 
> Don't worry, it's not the end! I have more in store for you, but I still need to map it out so be patient with me!
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> 2-5-21 Edit: Hello!! So if you recall this fic being 3 chapters out of 25 you aren't going crazy. This fic was supposed to have 25 chapters but I decided that it was a bit too complicated. So I shortened it down to it's two chapters with the nice and cheesey ending! (The stuff I had planned will end up in another fic, this start just doesn't really work for the next parts) 
> 
> Thank you for enjoying this story! I apologise if you loved the third chapter and wanted to see it again,, hopefully I'll be able to frankenstein it to a different fic or something

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I really hope you like it, also you can find me on Tumblr as well at tizzymcwizzy.tumblr.com
> 
> There are more chapters I'm planning on releasing, don't know when they'll be out though. Bear with me!


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